Darkest Before Dawn
by Rigmarole
Summary: With Praxis dead and Kor defeated, Jak should have been getting better. But despite the gift of White Eco, the darkness was growing. It is only in the deepest black that the smallest light shines, but will it be enough? M/M
1. Chapter 1

Well, this is my first published fanfiction, and it's none other than Jak and Daxter! I had started this way back on y!Gallery, but never continued it due to life's funny little circumstances. I have not visited that site in a while, so I took it down and I am finally getting back to working on it here on my shiny new account. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>"If we do not act soon, his rage will consume him and, subsequently, darkness the world."<p>

Three blackened figures huddled around a circular pool. Instead of water, the pool contained images from countless locales bleeding amorphously into each other. In the surge of scenery, a young man was the common trait.

"Well chyeah, but, like, what can we do? Fat lotta good the White Eco did."

The man in the pool succumbed to a white tint, twisting and swirling furiously in pulses of electricity. The pool seemed to fracture into jagged purple lines in several spots as if glass struck with stones.

"Eco conduits are powerful but fragile. Just look at the sages – only a handful throughout history managed to keep their sanity intact."

"Like, barely."

"If only Eco and humans weren't so damnably temperamental."

The pool grew more agitated. Tremors unfelt rippled through the liquid chaos, a puddle reflecting an apocalypse yet to be.

"The Eco responds to inner turmoil. The stronger the emotional tumult, the more volatile the Eco becomes. It doesn't take much to break even the most resilient minds."

"So uh, what's eatin' Jak?"

"The boy has suffered as all heroes do. He's lost the world he loved and his youth to cold and unforgiving imprisonment. He's endured torment others could scarcely dream of. He kills in the name of a destiny he wants nothing to do with."

"Oh...right."

"But these things he has come to terms with. With the death of Praxis and the time spent with his younger self, he understands his place even though he does not favour it. There is something else. Something deeper..."

The largest figure dipped a finger into the pool and the waves spread and left the visuals crystallized, showing the subject of their scrutiny: Jak, asleep, with Daxter curled up on his chest.

"But what?"

/

Jak woke with a start, his skin beaded with dread sweat. As the last vestiges of another night terror lifted, reality seeped in bringing his dreary little underground room with it. Through the knotty tangle of green branching down his face, he found two eyes in the dim, wide and worried. He'd awakened to the same eyes for weeks now and he didn't like seeing them expressing so much fear.

"Another one?" said Daxter from the edge of the stale cot as Jak wearily leaned up to rest on his elbows.

"Yeah," the larger said, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He would never tell anyone what the dreams showed him; the twisted things convulsing in his subconscious, screaming for attention in the dead of night. Not even Daxter.

Jak slumped back down and groaned and Daxter crawled back to him and leaned against his side.

"They're gettin' worse," he said, uncharacteristically serious. It wasn't a question so Jak didn't answer.

Some silence passed, punctuated with the usual hollow dripping sound echoing through the underground. Then Daxter said, "Let me guess, a recurring dream where you walk in on Krew gettin' undressed?"

Jak chuckled briefly and said, "Don't say that! The next one probably will be now."

They both laughed and fell quite once more. Without thinking Jak reached out and began scratching Daxter behind the ear. Had this been anywhere else at any other time his hand would have been slapped away. After all, Dax was no pet. But now, in the quiet and the dark, when the ottsel put the pieces of the shattered calm back into place, he allows Jak this comfort.

He breathed a small contented sigh and it reminded Jak of the distant waves of Sandover and the memories came rushing back. Samos' crooked hut and the restful village that breathed the ocean air through arching doorways or oblong windows; the rolling green of hills sloping into sun-bleached sand; the great cliffs and jungles containing countless legends.

The redheaded boy he explored it all with.

"Sorry," Jak said, trying to unravel the knot that had suddenly formed in his stomach and not knowing what else to say.

"Fer what?" said Daxter, his head still angled forward, leaning into the soft scratches.

"Keeping you awake," Jak said at length, deciding that was in fact what he was apologising for. "You should really get your own bed or…drawer or something," he continued hesitantly. He was afraid he might go Dark in his sleep and hurt Daxter, or worse, but the thought of waking up, half lost in the last nightmare to visit him and not having that familiar warmth to feel terrified him even more. He idly wondered if that was selfish.

"Nah, gets too cold," Daxter said. "Soon as this place gets central heating though, I'm kickin' yer ass outta my room." Jak chuckled and silently thanked Daxter for saving him every single day.

The door creaked open and a silhouette was framed in the doorway. With a spark of a match, Torn's face was illuminated in orange-red as he lit another cigarette in the chain. He wove the flame out and took a drag and exhaled.

"Get up, get dressed. It's time."

/

The trial was over in under an hour; merely a show to precede the verdict that had already been reached. After the destruction of the palace, a makeshift stronghold had been built to contain the new leaders of Haven City. The so-called Council was nothing but drug barons, arms dealers, and gang lords – the remaining mad dogs tearing at the vast corpse that was Haven City, Jak had thought as the smell of smouldering and rot pervaded the imposing fortress.

The armoured transport jarred suddenly and interrupted Jak's recollection of the morning's prosecution. As they sped towards the Wasteland, he sat in restraints and looked around dully, seeing his escort of faceless figures in cobalt metal, Ashelin standing with folded arms and furrowed brows in the corner, Daxter looking sullen on his shoulder plate and finally Veger, standing nearest the door, smug, arrogant and relishing his underhanded victory.

"This Eco freak is more dangerous and unpredictable than any Metal Head," the Count's proclamation to the Council still hissed in Jak's mind. "He doesn't care about this city or its inhabitants. He used his connections with the rebels to further his plans for revenge against the late Baron Praxis, leaving hundreds murdered in his wake." Jak had flinched at that, because it was true to some extent. To Hell with the KG, but how many bystanders had been caught up in his anger or recklessness? He tried not to think about it.

"Jak is a valuable asset to this city's defences," Ashelin had protested, much to Veger's chagrin. "He should be out there helping to stem the tide of Metal Heads and Death Bots who are still warring in the streets, killing _thousands. _What he did in the past is done; let him help us save our future.

"Respected members of the council," Veger said and approached the elevated semi-circular table at which they sat, "if Haven is to be returned to glory, it cannot continue to rely on blasphemous experimentation and dealings with monsters. Let us cast out this…_thing_"–he spat and gestured to Jak–"and send a clear message to those who would seek to destroy us."

"That's it!" Daxter screamed from Jak's shoulder plate, no longer able to hold his tongue after he had been warned to keep quiet during the trial. "Talk about Jak like that one more time and I'll take that fancy stick o' yer's and cram it up ya so far you won't be able to bend over and pray to the Precursors for a new one!

"Daxter," Jak said sternly to ottsel before being interrupted by Veger.

"Ah, yes, the talking rat," he said sardonically. "Another twisted product of Dark Eco, no doubt."

"You wanna dance, Count Vulgar?" Daxter shot back and jumped down from Jak's shoulder, marching towards Veger and the Council, attempting to be threatening despite his size and appearance. Jak stood and watched, stunned and touched by his friend's outrage. "I'll show ya just how twisted I can be. And maybe after I slap some sense into you and yer cronies, you'll be able to squeeze out a thought between ya and realize that Jak's the guy that saved all yer useless asses!"

Only then did Jak notice that the Council had not made a sound throughout the trial; slight movements being the only signs of life from the figures made vague by grey, hazy light.

One of the blue enamelled guards stepped forward and seized Daxter by the scruff of the neck as Veger turned to the judges and rested his case. Daxter was shoved roughly into Jak's bound arms where he held the ottsel firmly but carefully, tight enough to silently demand silence. The verdict was passed in uninterested tones and before he knew it, Jak was whisked away to his banishment.

"Jak," Daxter said, his wistful tone bringing Jak out of his reflection. "I probably don't say this often enough, but…" The ottsel stared distantly as his friend turned to look at him perched upon the iron should plate, intrigued by his longing demeanour. "I would live between those things." Jak was confused before looking to the direction Daxter's eyes were focused and saw Ashelin, folded arms emphasizing her prominence. Jak sighed, rolled his eyes and lifted his shackled hands to flick the ottsel's ear, eliciting a pained gasp and an oblivious "What was that for?"

Just then, their forward movement stopped and the vehicle descended. End of the line. They landed roughly and the doors opened and the assault of rough heat scratched at Jak's throat and made pained slits of his eyes.

Before he could adapt, he was hauled to his feet and marched into the unforgiving expanses of sand. Daxter was too busy coughing and shielding his eyes to brace for the sudden movement and tumbled from his should to the steel floor.

"By order of the Grand Council of Haven City," Veger followed and recited. "For heinous acts and crimes against the people, you are hereby banished to theWasteland for life." He emphasized the end through a growing smirk. Before he could return to the hovercraft, Ashelin spoke out once more.

"This is a death sentence, Veger," the Baron's daughter said. "There must be another way."

"Your protest was overruled," Veger growled back before turning his gaze to Jak. "This Dark Eco freak is dangerous. Drop the cargo!" He shouted the command and sternly boarded the waiting vehicle. Daxter emerged by the side of the open doorway as the Count walked by and looked with uncertainty to Jak.

"Jak?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Go back to the city, Dax," Jak replied immediately. Whatever happened to him, he would not, _could not, _allow his best friend to share his fate. Saying those words, however, sent a chill down his spine despite the tremendous heat around him.

"I'm sorry," Ashelin said, an unusual and genuine apologetic tone in her voice, as she removed the condemned man's restraints. "The Council is too powerful. There was nothing I…"

"I know," Jak interrupted, tired of empty apologies. He rubbed his chafed wrists and sighed wearily. Ashelin took hold of his hand and placed a glowing, quietly beeping device in it.

"You just stay alive, you hear me?" she said, and closed his fingers around it. "That's an order. Someone will find you, I promise." Jak met her eyes and was surprised to see concern there. Maybe she wasn't as cold as everyone thought.

As she walked back to the transport, Veger chimed in and voiced the last word. "May the Precursors have mercy on you," he preached, that same smirk still plastered on his gaunt face. They lifted off and as the dust stirred and clouded around him, Jak silently swore to remove that sneering little grin permanently.

As the sand settled, Jak perked his ears up to hear coughing from within the thick, grainy air. His heart lifted at the sight of Daxter wiping the dust from his eyes.

"Daxter!" Jak said, unable to keep the relief from his voice despite fearing over Daxter's safety.

"Don't look at me," the ottsel said, pawing the last of the grit from his chest. "I'm only here 'cause you wouldn't last a second without me." Daxter approached the larger of the duo and quickly ascended to his shoulder plate. "Alright, tough guy," he said, settling in his usual spot, "you got us into this mess, now ya gotta get us out." He did his best to sound accusatory and Jak smiled briefly before issuing his plan of action, such as it was.

"Let's just get moving," he said, before looking dubiously around. "…But which way?" The blistering sun hung overhead and each horizon held nothing but simmering, barren white. As they set off, he slipped the faintly pulsing trinket Ashelin had given him into his pocket, wondering if they would be found alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, it's been a while. First off, I'd like to apologise to anyone who decided to follow this story for my lenthy hiatus. Without going into detail, my life had a bit of an upheaval that didn't leave me with much time or drive to pursue things like writing. Luckily, things have settled and I can get back to this. Second, thanks for those of you that commented and followed. I promise you won't be waiting months for updates from now on.**

/

Jak had been walking for what felt like hours now, but the sun hadn't seemed to move or wane at all. Daxter had hopped down from his shoulder to walk beside him not long after they set off so as to not burden the hero further, Jak assumed. He palmed the sweat from his brow, the rough leather of his glove smearing the moisture rather than absorbing it. He looked back at his companion who had fallen behind; the ottsel's short legs unable quicken to make up for their length, scruffy paws ploughing furrows in the sand with every dragging step.

Jak slowed to catch his breath and to let Daxter catch up. While stalling, he looked around futilely, seeing identical vaporous dunes billowing up to a bleached blue sky. Jak hadn't felt heat like this since traversing Fire Canyon back home, but at least he had had a zoomer then.

"Dax, get on my shoulder," Jak said, spotting his friend's failing endurance.

"I'm fine, Jak," Daxter managed to lie with some difficulty. "Just peachy, right as rain… Ah crap, why did I have to say rain?" The ottsel had slowed severely now and Jak walked back to him and knelt down and offered a hand. "Really, big guy, I'm alright," Daxter said and meekly pushed the hand aside. "Maybe… maybe just a nap 'n we can…we can, uh…" Jak caught him before he hit the dirt. He brought his fainted friend to his chest and cradled him there, at once relieved that he was no longer able to protest at being treated with kid gloves and fearful over their predicament. He struggled on, unwilling to succumb to political backstabbing after all he'd fought through.

At length, the sun shifted across the sky, but lost no intensity. Jak removed his red scarf and wrapped it loosely around Daxter to shield him from the sun, but if help didn't arrive soon… It didn't bear thinking about. He couldn't die now, not when so much remained undone, not while his promise remained unfulfilled. He absently squeezed Daxter a little tighter.

His mind felt like it was cooking now and distant shapes of mountains conjured up images of Sandover. He felt phantom sea breeze and it whispered dreams and memories as it rose to greet him.

His leg faltered and he fell to his knees. The impact shook him somewhat from his delirium and he cursed himself for being so weak. He removed a frayed edge of scarf to reveal Daxter's exhausted features and a rapidly rising and falling chest. Jak replaced the covering and swore against further reminiscing. His past was long dead and dwelling on it served no purpose.

Just then, he felt the vaguest of sensations; a brush of static electricity, the feeling of being watched, pins and needles. Recognizable – a reaction and response to his proximity to Dark Eco. He looked up and around with anxious eyes. Impossible, there was no Eco here. Eco was life and nothing lived for long out here.

As he was about to convince himself that it was nothing more than the trick of a dying mind, he saw it. Distant, just too consistent to be an apparition, a black spot stood against the white like a stain on a fresh canvas. He rose with renewed vigour and stumbled towards it.

As he drew closer, the smudge grew in size and definition. The sensation washed over him again, threatening and inviting like a stranger's soothing tones. He shrugged it off and continued. There was nowhere else to go; a negative view of the light at the end of the tunnel.

Then he stood before it – a cave, hollowed out in the side of a steep rise of jagged, cracked rock. Without further hesitation, he stepped inside.

/

Once inside, Jak didn't hesitate to slump against one of the concave walls beyond the reach of the furious sunlight. He gathered a few laboured breaths before carefully unwrapping Daxter and sliding the red cloth from around his form. The small body seemed to respond to the cool of the cave, relaxing into a more restful slumber.

He looked around and noticed the walls and roof were oddly smooth, devoid of hanging or standing pillars, as if the hollow was carved away rather than naturally formed. To his left, it stretched into darkness; a yawning void that unsettled him, but for now he was content to sit in the eerie shade.

Daxter stirred in his arms and he figured it was best to wake him. "Dax," he said and softly shook the ottsel's head with his palm. "Daxter," he repeated, more firmly this time and his friend's eyes opened and focused shortly.

"I feel hungover," Daxter said with a groan and shifted himself from Jak's arms. "Please say we got plastered last night and we're still in Haven."

"Afraid not," Jak said with a smirk as Daxter groggily stretched. He leant back with that ottsel flexibility until something audibly popped in his back. "Ah, there it is," he said once the kink had been worked out. He froze as he caught sight of the darkness contrasting the light of the entrance. "Uh, Jak, where are we?"

"A cave," Jak answered and wrapped his scarf back around his neck. "Lucky for us."

"Weird lookin' cave."

"I noticed."

"Almost as big as Torn's mouth," Jak laughed quietly and tilted his head back. He rested his eyes. The sound of the wind outside calmed him. It was odd, that sound. Haven was a constant assault to the senses; the streets' insomnia fuelled by zoomers and screams and gunshots, the underground filled with the cadence of boots and metallic drips and creaking pipes. The quiet and the desert wind held a certain cleansing quality, eroding the hardened black formed by Haven's toxins.

A breathy, high-pitched sound woke Jak from his trance. It was followed by several softer mimics. A whistle. Jak opened his eyes and looked to the source of the sound as Daxter whistled again. Louder and sharper this time, aimed to the shadowed depths by a cupped paw at his mouth. It whistled back and Daxter wrinkled his nose in thought. Then he shouted. The outburst pulsed down the cave. He shouted again, longer and louder. So too did the Earth.

"Daxter," Jak said, wanting to quiet his friend. He still felt the curious sensation of Eco and he didn't want to wake anything that might call this place home.

"C'mon, Jak," Daxter said, turning and gesturing towards his friend, "give it a shot." The ottsel looked at him with an infectious smile that made anything seem fun. Jak rose and walked up beside Daxter. They both stood the foot of the darkness and, unsure, the hero looked to the other who held out his hand as if to say, "After you." Jak inhaled sharply and yelled and the short, deep bark travelled down the path. Daxter responded with another yell, longer than Jak's. They glanced at each other and smirked and shouted together. As they did so, the hollers increased in volume and length until their arms were pulled rigidly back and their knees bent to put as much force into their voices as possible.

After a while they stopped and laughed and the ottsel coughed hoarsely. Jak breathed heavily and somehow felt better. All of his anger and pain had suddenly found an outlet sorely unused. The ugliness that weighed so heavily in his head and heart had been lightened, diffused, if only slightly, by inarticulate screams directed at nothing – the cold, dark nothing that would scream back in his nightmares. But for now, Jak smiled in earnest and wondered if Daxter recognized the catharsis of all this or if he was just fooling around. Maybe both. Either way, Jak silently thanked him as he knelt and patted the thin, furry back of the ottsel who was still thudding his chest and roughly coughing.

When the whooping fit had settled, they looked at each other, strangely happy despite everything. Daxter opened his mouth to say something undoubtedly stupid but the cave interrupted with a shout of its very own. An incredibly deep sound reverberated all around the duo and unsettled the dust and pebbles beneath them. Jak stood and Daxter clambered up his leg to his back to his shoulder, peeking wide-eyed over the metal plate. The sound diminished to sustained guttural moan before cutting off. Bits of rock tumbled both inside and outside the cave, as if they had disturbed the very mountain and it had shifted in its sleep. Silence then, save for the wind.

Jak stepped backwards slowly but kept his eyes fixed on the entrance to the depths. Daxter shakily said his name and Jak shushed him sternly. He took another step. Another. Another. He sensed a violent presence and winced and something shot out from blackness. It wrapped itself around the hero's ankle with sinewy strength. He caught a glimpse of it before it pulled his feet from beneath him – a scaled, black appendage, seemingly made from the darkness itself. The next thing he saw was the cave roof as he landed hard on his back. Before he could try to break free it pulled fiercely and dragged him into the void.

Daxter was clinging onto the shoulder plate as his feet and tail were dragged behind him. The thing that held them was thrashing too much for Jak to reach his ankle and try to wrestle free. Adrenaline momentarily overpowered terror and the ottsel pulled himself from the dirt and scurried down Jak's torso and along his leg wrenching in the clasp of the creature that had constricted around it. Without thinking he started biting and clawing at it in order to wound it enough to release the duo.

Its skin was like thick, dry leather and it tasted wrong. Bitter and metallic, the familiar kind of wrong that reminded Daxter of drowning and fear and hatred. He didn't care and kept attacking.

Jak heard Daxter trying to claw them free and shared the notion, figuring his own black claws would do the trick. Unfortunately, Jak had had little exposure to Dark Eco since his battle with Kor and the depleted amount inside him was not enough to force the change. They had also taken his morph gun before the trial. Bastards.

As he furiously thought up another means of escape, the ground fell away beneath him and the rising, sickening feeling of sudden weightlessness hit him. For a moment there was no sound. No sound, no sight, no sensation. He floated in a void.

Daxter's scream followed, accompanied by the portentous rush of air whisking passed Jak's ears.

/

Jak came to sometime later. He didn't know how long he had been out, the cleaving pain in his head made thought almost impossible. He remembered the cave, the thing that grabbed him, falling… Daxter. He called out for his friend as terror struck him. No answer. He called again and rose unsteadily to his feet.

It was pitch black. He felt around blindly but his outstretched hands brushed nothing. He stopped, took a breath, and soothed his panic. Think, Jak, he thought, you're no use to Daxter stumbling around and crying in the dark. In his stillness, he heard a faint noise. It was high-pitched beep, just barely audible. The beacon!

He pulled the device from a pouch on his belt. It pulsed and flashed a soft light every few seconds. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. He fixed it to one of the leather strips attached to the Eco ring on his chest. He took in his surroundings haltingly, moments at a time. The light didn't reach far and he used it to progress slowly.

He felt the brink before he saw it.

Jak looked down and the blinking light illuminated nothing in front of him. The jagged outline of the edge could be seen before giving way to emptiness suffused with the presence of Dark Eco. It rose from the abyss, greeting him like a too warm breeze or the smell of rot. Whatever dragged them here was down there.

And it was big.

/

Daxter wasn't sure how far he had fallen. He managed to catch himself on a rocky outcropping and clamber up through a crevice in the stone. He didn't know what happened to Jak and he was terrified. He thought he heard Jak's scream stop suddenly on the way down but he couldn't be sure. It all happened so fast.

He spent a few minutes calling out for the green/blonde, but got no answer. His heart sank but he quickly convinced himself that Jak was alive, that it would take more than a freaky tentacle thing and a tumble in dark to make the hero kick the proverbial bucket.

He didn't know where he was going. He couldn't see anything – ottsels had no better night vision than humans. He cursed Dark Eco for not turning him into something nocturnal. It was silent save for the occasional unidentifiable sound that could just have easily been his imagination as it could have been a 12 foot Lurker/Metal Head hybrid about to chow down on Orange Lightning and keep a severed paw for good luck.

It didn't help that he was feeling something particularly nasty down below. Jak was more in tune with sensing this kind of stuff so he figured the hero's skin had to be crawling non-stop.

He ignored that for now. He had to find Jak and get out.

At length he found himself in a narrow tunnel, the sides of which were only a few steps apart. Daxter was quietly begging for a sign to show him which way to go. A real sound, some kind of light, anything. Shortly after, he heard hissing and something scraping the stone up ahead. Ovals of light bobbed into view and he instantly recognized them as Metal Head skull gems.

He had gotten his sign. Careful what you wish for, he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Back with another chapter. Meant to have this uploaded a couple days ago but I had to stop in the middle to write a future chapter. Sorry but I absolutely could not wait to write it. Enjoy.

/

In his cell in Haven prison, Jak's one source of light had been a small caged light in the centre of the ceiling. Most of the time the light would work only intermittently, sparking in and out of life to bathe the small room in dirty greenish light. To him, making his way through the cramped underground tunnels with only the flash of the beacon to guide him all felt a little too familiar.

In those two years alone Jak had picked up a peculiar habit: an imaginary friend of sorts. The friend told him jokes and laughed at all the punch lines, even the dumb ones. He brought up warm memories Jak had almost forgotten then ask why the boy had started crying. He had fiery red hair that twisted and shocked out in all different directions, the perpetually split ends dipped in bright blonde. His face always had a lopsided grin with front teeth that were a little too big. He was skinny and gangly with feet and hands that required growing into. He was pale and freckled and scraped and bruised.

He was beautiful.

"_Aw, you're sweet, Jak, but everyone knows I'm gorgeous."_

Jak squeezed through a thin crevice in the stone which emptied out into a thankfully roomier passage. The ground was uneven and he stumbled.

"_Careful. Who's gonna save the world if you sprain your ankle?"_

Great, thought Jak, I'm so crazy I can't spend a few hours alone in the dark without you.

"_Well, duh. Remember the first night after the prison break? When I finally woke ya up your eyes were black and ya had horns halfway outta your skull. _

I'm better now, he thought, the Precursors helped.

"_The Precursors didn't do jack, Jak. You ask me I think they slipped ya a big fat placebo."_

Why? Jak thought and pursed his lips, hefting himself up a ledge the path tapered into.

"_How should I know? Maybe they find havin' Dark Jak around is a little too useful."_

Jak did not like that thought, particularly because he found it hard to argue against.

"_All I know is me sleepin' with ya is the only thing that seems to calm ya down. Or did ya think I was still doin' it because I get a kick outta playin' pet?"_

"You're not my pet," Jak said out loud and alone, seeing the tunnel ahead split into two directions and pausing to decide which way to go. "You're my friend."

"_I'm not so sure you're supposed to sleep with your friend every night and call him beautiful, especially when he's a two foot tall rat."_

"Don't say that, we'll…"

"_What? Change me back? That ship has sailed, Jak, stop beatin' yourself up about it."_

"No," Jak said flatly and went left.

"_That why you're still havin' trouble sleepin'?"_ Jak stopped. He pinched the bridge of his nose and willed the voice away. Silence. He moved on.

/

"Crap, crap, craaaap!" Daxter screamed, running on all fours through the dark, the stone around him echoing the sounds of the Metal Heads pursuing him, making it hard to discern where exactly they were. He didn't dare look back to check; one slip up and he could forget about a nice quiet death in a pool full of chocolate sauce.

The light from their skull gems flickered madly from behind, casting shadows that jumped and slid and shook before him. Through his panic he managed to notice spots where the light angled away into darkness. They seemed to be smaller tunnels which emptied out into this larger one, dotting the curvature of the walls.

As he ran he looked closely, trying to see if there was a pattern. They seemed to follow no order so timing this would be more difficult. One passed, too late. Another. Too high up. Blank stone. Come on, he thought. There! He sprang up towards the hollow, barely catching the edge as he flew past, the momentum of his jump flinging his lower body to the side where his legs skittered on the wall. He clawed desperately at the inner stone, trying to pull himself in. He felt two claws break off but fear and adrenaline put the pain on hold for later.

He managed to make it in and immediately set off crawling through the twisting blackness. Any hope that the Metal Heads were too large to follow were short-lived as the same chitinous screaming and spasms of light emerged behind once more.

Daxter mentally kicked himself as he realized that the tunnel he was in and the others like it were probably made just for these things to get around. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought. Daxter, you dumb, useless freakin' dumba-…

"Aaaaaaaaggggh!" Daxter screamed, the particular branch of the network of tunnels he found himself in sloped down suddenly and he was sliding at a terrifying speed. He tried to catch himself for a moment but realised the beasts behind would quickly be upon him if he did. He could do nothing but let himself fall.

/

Jak's ear twitched and he stopped to listen. He thought he heard a scream, but it was much too faint to be sure. When no other sound followed, he sighed and continued walking. At least until he ran into a dead end.

He made an irritated noise and began to turn when a new voice appeared in his head.

"**Where are you going?"**

He spun on his heel, fists half-raised defensively, flesh prickling. He could see nothing.

"**You know this is the right way."**

"Who's there?" Jak growled, spinning again, trying to find the source of the voice. It was deep and guttural, not quite human suggesting mimicry of language rather than fluency.

"**The stone, Jak. Break it."**

A chill blossomed in Jak's chest. "How do know my name?"

"**It is the name the other calls out for. The one you call out for. Daxter."** Jak clenched his Jaw and his fists when it said the ottsel's name. A crackle of Dark Eco travelled along his arms to his knuckles, dissipating, warping the air imperceptibly as it fizzled and died.

"Where is he?" Jak said, low and dangerous.

"**Perhaps on the other side of this wall. Perhaps he found a way out. Perhaps dead."**

"Tell me!" Jak yelled, in no mood for games.

"**You know where he is. It was not coincidence you've chosen this path." **Jak kept his guard up but listened, not having an alternative. **"I sensed a connection since you stepped foot in this place. Both creatures touched by Dark Eco but not destroyed by it. You sense it subconsciously and are drawn to it; never solitary, just like the Hora-Quan."**

"We are nothing like those monsters," Jak snapped back, sick of this sound with seemingly no outside source.

"**No… just you. The other is weak. Tainted. Unworthy of the power like those who came before him. But you, Jak, you made the darkness your own. Embraced it. Accepted the strength meant only for the worthy."**

"I never wanted this!" Jak screamed, angered by the cryptic comments.

"'**Want' is irrelevant. Something you can no longer indulge in like the rest of your pathetic race. You needed it. You still need it."**

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"**Because otherwise, you are both going to die down here. Daxter first... while you watch."**

"No!" screamed Jak and the change started. It always hurt, but the agony was almost unbearable this time; he had never gone Dark with so little Eco in his system. The transformation seemed to last hours, what little Eco he had stretched thin, like skin too small on a body too big.

Once done, his head was pounding and he felt starved and terribly weak despite the black electricity arcing over his sinewy frame. He spared no time in thrusting both of his arms into the wall that blocked his path, fingers sinking in with unnatural ease, cracks spreading out like branches, etched with tips of purple light. The stone caved inward beneath his palms. A strobe of violet lit up the area around Jak as he ripped his arms back, the obstacle tumbling down in rubble and dust.

/

The tunnel Daxter was speeding down ended abruptly and he fell through open air for a couple of seconds before landing hard on his back. He must have come in horizontally as he slid a few feet before coming to a stop. The impact winded him badly and he lay there, unable to move and gasping for breath. He heard the skittering and the hissing and the scraping of metal mandibles. The light from the curious orbs in the creatures' skulls shone down from the hole Daxter had slid from. As they the lights grew brighter, he hoped they would make it quick.

Just then, a shudder followed by violent quaking. Chunks of rock were dislodged from above and fell and sent tremors along the surface on which Daxter lay. Regaining some control, he crawled away from the falling tonnes of earth. He looked back and saw the Metal Heads shaken from the tunnel, landing belly up with legs stabbing desperately at the air before the roof came down, flattening them with sickening crunches barely audible over the thunderous tumult.

The light from their gems vanished under the cave-in and Daxter was left shielding his face and coughing from the dirt sent up from boulders landing too close in front of him. Once it had settled, he took a few shaky breaths and wondered what had caused all that. He brushed some dirt from his fur and tried to collect himself, taking a few deep breaths as he did so. He managed to sit up and he rubbed at the spot on his back where he had landed, wincing at its tenderness. He felt a strange warmth spread over the tips of his paw. He squeezed the ends gently and gasped at the sharp pain it produced. Great, he thought, remembering the claws being broken away upon the stone, I filed them and everything.

As he stuck the offending digits in his mouth to clean away the copper tasting blood, a limpid yellow light emerged from a space in the rock up above. A single Metal Head survivor spotted Daxter almost immediately and hissed. You've gotta be freakin' kidding me, the ottsel thought, scooting back desperately, still too unsteady to stand.

It seemed the ottsel wasn't completely out of luck as just before the beast could pounce, one last boulder fell directly on top of it, popping the skull gem from its socket and sending it bouncing down the debris. It settled just beside Daxter who looked at it in shock for a moment before breaking out in a fit of hysterical laughter.

/

Jak fell hard upon all fours once the passage was cleared. He could feel the earth trembling beneath his hands and he guessed the damage he had caused extended further below. The reversion came upon him quickly then. He clutched at his head as the sharp protrusions that had formed there grinded inward. The obsidian claws on his fingers smoothed and flattened and the pale tint of his flesh seeped into his veins, allowing the sun darkened tone to creep back, pallid though it was from weakness. The eyes were the last to change, as always. The inky blackness drained into the pupils, taking with it the unique view of the world it gave Jak; life and Eco in all its purity and simplicity. People carried faded greenish hues, creatures like Metal Heads more vibrant purple. All the Eco in their systems pulsed like blood and stood vivid against a black canvas. The world itself was distinguished by the reflection of these pulses, gleaming and rippling upon the ground and structures around him – almost a sort of sonar. There were no faces, no way to differentiate between an enemy and a friend. Everything was a threat or a source of Eco.

That's what terrified Jak the most.

Once fully out of it, he remained kneeling and took in one shuddering breath after another, trying not to wretch.

"**There, see? I knew you had it in you."**

"Shut up," Jak said, the voice's condescending pride mocking him.

"**Come now, Jak. I just want you to realise your potential. Yours isn't the only life that depends on it."**

"I don't know what you are," Jak said, rising to his feet ungracefully, "but I'm going to find you, and I'm going to kill you."

"**I would expect nothing less from the one that killed Kor."**


End file.
